


Wait For The Sunrise

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Canon-Typical Death, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence and death are present since this is a zombie au, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3399410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Louis, shouldn’t have fallen in love with Louis, but he did, and there’s nothing that he can do to take it back. The only thing he can do is hold onto Louis as he breathes into the material of his shirt and hope that he never loses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For The Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> As a fair warning, this is a Zombie AU so if blood and violence and death bother you, please don't read this. It's much better to protect yourself than it is to enjoy a fic :) 
> 
> Dedicated to the person who prompted this well over a year ago, here it is. Finally. It's strayed a bit from the original prompt, but after rewriting this a million and three different times, I'm finally happy with the final piece, so I hope you all like it as well. 
> 
> Title taken from the song 'Memory' as performed in the play Cats.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Thank you!!!

The summer feels hotter than usual, the sun beating down against Liam’s back as he drags his bat through the dirt. He doesn’t know where he’s going or why he’s walking, but the sun is beating down against his skin, sweat rolling down his dirty, blood-caked skin and causing his clothes to adhere to his body, making everything that much more miserable. He’s been wandering aimlessly for months now, stopping to sleep only when his body feels like it’s at the point of a breakdown, when exhaustion is forcing his eyelids closed and he’s seeing things that he knows aren’t there, like his family, like a new life.

And when those moments come, he sleeps where he can, finding abandoned cars on the side of the road, tucking himself nicely into the backseat, or behind bushes in between them and a tree. He hasn’t slept in a bed in months, not since-- Well, not since the last time he found himself in a house with a stomach full of canned goods and cool cotton sheets rubbing against his back.

Liam can’t remember the last time he had a meal, or even the last time he wanted to eat. It’s been weeks, maybe even longer. His ribs are starting to stick out a little more, other bones becoming more prominent as he spends his days walking, killing zombies when he finds them, and avoiding the tasks that’ll keep him alive. He’s grown used to the feeling of his stomach twisting and knotting, begging for food that’ll he’ll never give it. He knows that it’s making him weaker, slowing him down and pulling him closer to death, but he can’t find it in him to care.

Liam’s lost everyone, and dying sounds like far better an adventure than having to live through an apocalypse.

It’s been a year since the outbreak happened, seven months since it reached Liam’s home and stripped him of his family. He still remembers having to drive the knife into his mother’s temple, and the way he cradled her body afterwards, sobbing into her deteriorated flesh and blood soaked clothing. She died in her nightgown and the thought still haunts Liam.

He’s lost more people than he can count, more than he cares to admit. He’s killed people that he cared about, people that he loved, plunging a knife into their skull and watching as their bodies drop to the ground. It never gets easier, slaughtering people, but Liam knows that the outbreak killed them long before he got to them.

He met a man once, a tall man with a heavy gut that said it was a disease, the new version of the plague, ripping through the planet and trying to restore order. Liam doesn’t buy that, he doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not a disease. He won’t compare it to something like cancer, that’s a disease, but this is just… It’s something; he’s just not sure what.

//\\\//\\\

Louis walks through the abandoned neighborhood with a practiced ease, something that he’s perfected over the last seven months when the infection hit his hometown. It’s easier with someone, but he hasn’t had anyone with him for thirteen different raids, three or four months, if he had to guess. But without someone, he has to be even more careful, constantly glancing over his shoulder as he walks in a crouched stance, close to the ground just in case.

He’s been coming to this same neighborhood for the last six raids, slowly working his way through the houses, coming every week and raiding two or three abandoned houses at a time until the bag he brings with him is full. It’s a bit of walk from the house he’s taking up camp in, having to walk through the woods, sleeping in them over night.

So far, it’s the best arrangement that he’s had in a while, but with only two houses left to raid, he knows that he’s going to have to start searching for another food source, another neighborhood or abandoned car stocked up from when people thought they could travel and get away from the undead, like it was a hurricane and evacuating was something that could save you.

He hasn’t seen anyone yet, living or dead as he walks up the driveway to one of the houses silently; his senses on high alert, tuning in to his surroundings as he pushes open the front door carefully. The house is silent, but experience has taught him that doesn’t mean he’s alone. He pulls the knife out from his belt, gripping onto the handle tightly as he makes his way around the perimeter, checking behind every closed door until he finds that the house is clear, completely empty except for himself.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Louis gets to work, starting with the kitchen and snatching everything that he can, canned food items, knives, bottled water that nearly makes him weep in relief, grateful to drink something besides water from the well outside his house. He shoves it all in his bag, working quickly to get through the room before he moves on, grabbing a set of sheets, a couple items of clothing. They’re not his size, a little too big, but he stopped being picky a long time ago, having spent most of the winter wearing sweatshirts that had ‘world’s greatest grandma’ embroidered on the front.

He rummages through every drawer and closet, stuffing his over-sized duffle bag as he does. He finds an array of things in the bathroom, shoving everything into his bag. He’ll sort through it when he gets back to his safe house, he doesn’t have time to dawdle, it’s in and out, and he’s already wasted time grabbing the sheets and jeans.

Louis does a final sweep through before he leaves, slipping out of the front door like he was never there. He doesn’t take time to think about the family that used to live there, or how they’re probably dead now. It’s easier to pretend like they never existed.

He’s walking across the street towards the last house when he hears it, a shuffling along the other end of the street. He drops down behind a car, pulling his knife back out and watching carefully. There’s a figure walking towards him, stumbling, like it’s having trouble walking, dragging a bat at his side until he drops it, taking a few more steps until he collapses, falling onto the ground and lying there, still and motionless.

Louis watches, waiting for the figure to turn, to get back up and continue shuffling. He’s seen people turn before, seen the infection take over their body. He knows better than to assume their dead, because they always get back up again.

Walking towards the man lying on the ground, Louis moves slowly, never taking his eyes off the figure as he nears it.

He’s ready to plunge his knife into the man’s skull until he sees soft brown eyes staring up at him before the eyes close.

//\\\//\\\

Liam can feel himself getting numb, his breathing slowly down and his eyes getting heavy. His legs give out, dropping him to the ground, his bat rolling away with careful ease. He lies on his back, staring up at the beautiful blue of the sky, free of clouds as the sun shines overhead.

He feels like he’s floating, like he’s finally going to get what he’s been waiting for.

Before Liam’s vision goes black, he sees a stranger with soft brown hair staring down at him with curious blue eyes. He thinks, for a fleeting moment, that the stranger is beautiful and hopes he’s kind enough to give Liam a painless death.

//\\\//\\\

When Liam’s eyes open again, it’s dark outside, it’s not the same darkness that was enveloping him before, this one is welcoming and soft, and the kind that comes every night after the sun has gone down. A warm navy color to the sky, the little sliver that he can see as his eyes slowly begin to adjust, revealing the window in the wall. It’s barely a window, more like a hole in the wall. He stares up at it, shifting around, trying to get comfortable. He uses his hand to lift himself up and that’s when he realizes that he’s indoors and lying on something soft, a mattress cushioning him as a thin sheet lies across his hips.

Liam glances around, taking in the scene around him, trying to figure out where he is. He’s alone, and surrounded by bags, cans of food, and several boxes, the contents unknown. There are a series of guns along the wall under the window, varying in shapes and sizes. Liam studies them carefully; remembering the time when he had guns, back when Harry was still alive. Before he lost Niall. Before he stopped trying to survive.

He can tell that his clothes have been changed and his skin cleaned, he can no longer feel the caked blood that he’s grown accustomed to layered on top of him from the zombies that he’s killed, and the blood that he smeared across his body to prevent himself from being attacked.

It’s the most comfortable he’s been in a long time, his stomach is grumbling violently inside of him, but he ignores it, much like he’s done the past few months. He’s still not strong enough to sit up; his bones feel heavy and tired as he lies on the mattress, his body wanting to sleep once more.

//\\\//\\\

When Liam wakes up again, it’s morning and something is poking him in the back, a constant and steady pressure. Liam groans as he wakes, still feeling heavy limbed as he rolls his body over, looking at the body lying next to his, forcing the elbow that was pressed into his back into his ribs. Whoever it is lying next to him is sleeping on their stomach, facing towards him, body and face relaxed.

Liam looks closely at his features, thin lips pressed into a pout, they look soft like the hair that’s swept across the boy’s face, covering it partially. Liam can make out that they have a small nose and sharp cheekbones, but not much else.

He tears his eyes away from the strangers face and takes a look at the room. It’s different during the day; Liam can see the details he missed in the moonlight. The walls are white and chipping away in certain places, shelves line the wall on the side of the bed the stranger is on; filled with books, little trinkets, and supplies, items Liam hasn’t seen in ages. The guns are still along the wall across from them, a pair of boots in front of them. He notices several handguns sitting on top of the boxes, knives hung up on the walls, his propped in the corner. The items bring him comfort; let him know that he’s safe.

Liam stares at the knives for a moment, taking in the smooth and jagged blades, watching them glimmer in the sunlight.

When he turns back to look at the stranger next to him, his eyes are open, shining blue staring back at him. He blinks at Liam for a few seconds, eyeing him carefully before letting out a loud yawn, his body stretching as he does it. He pulls himself into a sit and stares down at Liam.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake,” the stranger says, his voice thick with sleep, but soothing.

“Finally?” Liam questions, watching as the man stands up, stepping over his body and stretching, his arms pulled high in the air, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin and the softest curve forming the strangers stomach. “How long was I out of it?”

“Three days,” the man says, pulling his necklace out of his shirt. “You’d wake up out of it, mumbling some nonsense and I’d get some water into you and then you’d fall right back asleep.”

“How’d I get here?”

“Carried you,” the stranger replies, distracted as he unlocks the doorknob, turning the key in the slot and then unlocking the other four. It’s more locks on a door than Liam’s ever seen, but it’s also the safest door he’s ever seen. “This is the only one that locks on the outside. Figured it might be safer.”

Liam watches him as he disappears through the doorway, coming back a few minutes later with two cans of beans, setting one down on Liam’s lap, placing his own on the ground before he disappears again. Liam takes the opportunity to sit up; his body sore and sluggish from lack of use for what he’s finding out is three days.

“I’d apologize for not giving you something better, but by the looks of things, this is the best meal you’ve had in a while,” the man says, shrugging as he sits down next to the bed. He passes Liam a fork before he sets two water bottles down in front of him.

They eat in silence and when he’s finished a part of him feels satisfied, even though there’s no way he’s eaten enough. He drops the can, leaning back to rest against the bed as the food settles. He opens his eyes back up and sees the stranger looking at him carefully.

“We’ll have a larger dinner, nothing special but better than canned beans. I’ve got some apples and such for lunch, picked ‘em off the tree in the woods. You could probably use the fruit.”

“I should be dead,” Liam says, staring at the stranger, because despite how good it feels to have food in his stomach and to have slept a decent night’s – three days worth – sleep, he can’t stop himself from thinking that he shouldn’t be here, it was his time to go, but the beautiful stranger stopped it from happening, and it’s a debt Liam doesn’t want to repay, because he can’t, not without sacrificing his own life for this beautiful stranger.

He hears the stranger sigh, and glances over and sees him shaking his head sadly before he grabs the cans, taking Liam’s away from him and disappearing from the room. Liam watches him go in curiosity, having forgotten to ask what his name was.

//\\\//\\\

Louis sits in the corner of the room, sharpening his knives. He drags the blade of his knife across the other, having no idea if this technique actually works, but it gives him something to do with his time, something other than sitting and waiting to run out of food.

Louis’ spent weeks perfecting this room, tucked away in the back of a small house. He’s replaced the wooden door with one that’s metal, having worked the locks on himself, setting the room up with everything he needs in case something were to happen. There’s a well out back, close to the woods where apple trees grow, giving him a constant water supply from a spring he hasn’t found. The water is always cold and crisp, and it keeps him alive, and he thanks whatever greater power is at work that he was able to find this place.

He glances back up at the stranger when he hears soft whines and quiet murmurs. He’s fast asleep; an action Louis is used to from the other boy, but it’s not as peaceful as it looked the last three days. This time he’s gripping at the sheets, whining and jerking around, a pained expression on his face.

It’s when he starts screaming that Louis jumps into action, rushing forward and shaking the boy awake, trying his hardest to soothe him into consciousness. He fights it, trying to shove away at Louis, but Louis grabs onto him, pulling him close and holding onto him tightly, rubbing his hand up and down his back until the stranger is gasping awake, shaking in Louis’ arms with a force that rattles his insides.

“You’re all right,” Louis soothes, brushing his fingers through the strangers dirty, damp hair, doing everything he can to get him to calm down. His shoulder is getting damp with tears, the other sobbing into his shirt, crying the nightmare out of him.

Louis’ been here before, and he knows what it feels like to feel completely helpless, so he holds onto him, rocking him until the shaking stops, until he’s no longer crying and Louis’ feels like it’s safe enough to pull away.

“I’ll get you some water,” Louis says, standing up and getting his key out. He wants to give him privacy, let him wipe the tears off his cheeks and the sweat off his forehead.

When he comes back in, the man is sitting on the edge of the bed, knees pulled up to his chest and looking up at Louis in earnest. He accepts the water with ease, putting the bottle to his mouth and sipping slowly.

Louis’ picking the knives up on the ground when the stranger speaks, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

“What's your name?”

“Louis. My name’s Louis,” he says, standing up to put the knives back on their hooks. He slides down on the ground opposite the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him, and looks at the other boy expectantly.

“I’m Liam,” the stranger tells him and Louis nods his head carefully. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I should be more grateful that you didn’t let me die.”

“It’s all right,” Louis replies, laughing bitterly. “We’ve all wished we were dead at some point.”

Liam takes a shaky breath and nods his head, a look on his face that tells Louis it’s not the first time he wished he were dead. He doesn’t ask. They’ve all been there before.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Liam asks and Louis looks up at him carefully, locking eyes with Liam to see that genuine curiosity is etched on Liam’s face. Most people would have left Liam to die, most people are already dead, Louis corrects.

“In a world where it’s the living versus the dead, we could all the living that we can get. Plus, I’m not going to let you die on the street where you could turn into food for them. You deserve a better death than that,” Louis says. It’s not fair that the world has turned against them, and he’s going to fight it every chance he gets, for himself and for everyone else. That’s how Louis is. He cares too fucking much, wants to take care of everyone, and it’s a burden that weighs down on him heavily at a time like this.

“But isn’t that how it happens now? Isn’t that what everyone turns into when they die and they’re not infected?”

Louis stares at him, the statement hitting him harder than it should have, knocking the air out of his lungs as the memories chip away at his mind, fighting to break free of the cage he keeps them in. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his heart rate and shakes his head at the boy across from him. “I’m going to go grab some more water,” he says, lifting himself off the ground and ignoring the look on Liam’s giving him.

//\\\//\\\

They run out of food a week later, Louis’ eating twice as much with Liam around, and Liam eating more than Louis due to trying to get his strength back, something he tries to fight Louis on, but Louis won’t hear it.

“Here take one of these,” Louis says, pulling a knife off the wall. It’s a knife used to filet, or it was before it became a knife used to kill the infected. He holds it out, watching as Liam shakes his head.

“I want to take my bat,” Liam says, grabbing the bat from the corner.

“No, you’re going to take a knife. Leave the bat,” Louis says, pushing the knife out further.

“I don’t want it. Put it back,” Liam argues.

Louis glares at him, squinting his eyes, anger and annoyance flushing through his body. “We’re going to be gone for three days. We’re sleeping in the woods, then raiding a house, then we’re sleeping in the woods again and then we’re coming back home. You’re taking a fucking knife.”

“I don’t want the knife,” Liam grits out, glaring at Louis with anger he didn’t think possible in the other boy. “I’m taking the bat. You can take whatever you want, but I’m taking this. I’m not leaving it here. It’s going with us.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, taking a calming breath before he opens them, forcing the knots his shoulders to loosen up. “I get that you want to take the bat, I do, and that’s fine, but we’re not going to die on this raid. You’re not going to fucking die on me because you refuse to stab their them in the brain, so take the fucking knife.”

He tries his hardest to plead with Liam, using his eyes to convey his desperation. Liam can’t die because he doesn’t want to use a more effective weapon. Louis can’t let him die.

Liam stares back at him, breathing deeply for a moment before he drops the bat on their bed, ripping the knife out of Louis’ hand and shoving it in the belt Louis’ made for him to wear when they’ve gone hunting in the woods. He flashes Louis one last look before he disappears out of their little room, heading outside to wait for Louis to lock up.  

//\\\//\\\

They go back to the neighborhood Louis saved Liam’s life in. Louis explains that there is one last house here he hasn’t gone through, one last house that they need to go through before they have to start looking elsewhere.

Liam follows him into the house slowly, remembering Louis’ orders of sticking close and to watch each other’s backs as they check to make sure the house is clear.

They don’t find anything, but as Louis is sorting through one of the bedrooms, Liam goes off on his own search of goods. He wanders into one of the other bedrooms, with pale yellow walls and a soft green blanket decorated in roses. There’s a picture on the wall, a print of a painting. It’s of some kind of lake with water lilies, a blue sky, and trees, all mirrored from the top half onto the bottom. It reminds Liam of life before the outbreak, when his parents used to take him and his sisters to the lake as children, setting up a tent next to the edge and giving in to nature for a few days. It’s the opposite of giving in that they’re doing now, or would be doing, then it was carefree, running and diving into the water, laughing as his sisters fight to dunk each other.

It sends an ache through him, missing what used to be and wondering if it could ever be again. When it will ever be again and with whom, he has no one now, unless he counts Louis, which he should. It’s not often that a stranger takes kindly to another in times like this, the world has flipped on it’s axis, not literally, but with the way that it’s all changed, nothing is the same.

Liam stares at the picture for a moment longer, angry at the painting, wanting to snatch it off the wall and smash it against the ground, watch as the glass shatters and gathers at his feet, breaking the tranquility of the world captured within it.

“What are you doing?”

Liam turns, tearing his eyes away from the painting to look at Louis; he’s standing in the doorway, his arms held out, a silent inquiry in his stance. “We don’t have much longer until sunset, so stop fucking around and find the shit we need.”

Liam nods, which proves enough for Louis, who leaves, rushing off towards the next room.

Liam turns the room upside down, yanking open drawers and sifting through them, grabbing rolls of fresh socks that look to have never been worn, and pair of boots that he finds at the bottom of the closet. He’s tossing the boxes around, digging through them and finding various documents, the deed to the house and other things buried in the closet, but in the back, the far back he finds a gun. He opens the discrete black box slowly, unclipping the clasps to reveal the semi-automatic pistol. It’s sleek and dangerous, heavy in his hands. He knows that Louis would want this, would knock his teeth out if he found out Liam ignored it, so he grabs it, popping the clip out to find it empty.

He’s digging through more boxes, looking for bullets, when he hears it, the sound of a quiet shuffle down the hall, he assumes it’s Louis and continues searching, finally finding the bullets in the furthest box, tucked into the corner under a blanket. He sits down in front of it, back turned towards the door and starts unloading the bullets, dropping them in the socks that he found earlier for easier carrying.

The shuffling continues and Liam thinks it’s Louis until there’s a snarl and he knows, as the chill runs down his spine that it was never Louis but a zombie, from somewhere in the house.

He stalls for too long, frozen in fear before he snaps out of, forgetting the knife in his belt and going for the gun, forgetting how it works, even though he’s done this a million times. His hands are shaking as he loads the clip, dropping bullets inside of it and on the ground, as the zombie snarls, snapping it’s teeth at him as he reaches for him, wrapping a hand around his ankle and pulling. Liam kicks and kicks, and tries to load the gun, popping the clip into place when the zombie gives him a steady tug, yanking him nearly out of the closet, gripping onto his leg and going for his knee, ready to bite him. His mind plays it out in his head, the teeth hitting his flesh and ripping him apart, but then there’s a bang and a fleshy crack, as Louis slams into the door of the closet before he dives a knife straight through the top of the zombies head.

Louis is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, as he drags the knife out, wiping it off on the bed. It’s eerily quiet now, the sound of his beating heart still ringing in his ears drowned out by the look in Louis’ eyes, this wild fear trapped in the blue.

“What the fuck was that?” Louis whispers, staring at Liam, gripping the knife tightly.

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Liam fumbles for words, shaking his head, because he froze and he doesn’t know why, aside from the fear of being trapped inside of the small closet with a zombie blocking the only entrance. Liam doesn’t know what happened.

“You don’t know?” Louis snarls, knuckles impossibly white on the knife. Liam shakes his head. “You almost got yourself fucking killed and you don’t know?”

“I froze, all right. I don’t know,” Liam defends, grabbing the gun and the socks filled with bullets. “I found a gun, and loads of bullets.” He holds it out for Louis, wanting to give it to him to drop his bag that’s filled, barely able to zip. It must have been a good raid, not that Liam knows anything about it, staying in one room. “Louis?”

“Fuck you, Liam. Fuck you and your I don’t know, fuck you and your gun, fuck you and those bullets,” Louis shouts, yanking open his bag and shoving the guns and socks inside. “I gave you a goddamn knife for a reason, learn to use it. Do you understand me?”

“Louis, I’m sorry,” Liam says, unsure of what to say. “It was happening so fast, I didn’t react as quick as I should have, I was scared,” he admits, frowning.

Louis stares at him, his gaze hardening into something Liam’s never seen before. He tilts his chin up, defiant. “The sun is setting, we need to go.”

Liam nods and follows him, feeling heavy like a burden, like he’s let Louis down. For some reason, it aches deep inside him, worse than the ache from missing the world before, when he was looking at the painting.

//\\\//\\\

The fire is crackling in front of them, twigs snapping as they slowly turn to ash. It’s a risk to have the fire, but Louis doesn’t seem to care, just snaps at Liam to start a fire, dropping his bag on the ground and wandering off. He doesn’t go far, just sits at the base of a tree and watches Liam, waiting.

Liam’s mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of earlier, the look on Louis’ face when he pulled the knife out of the zombie and looked at Liam, raw energy oozing out of him.

It’s twice the amount of debt that Liam owes him, two counts of his life almost lost only to be given back by Louis, he owes him too much, with no promise of ever being able to return the favor. The only thing he can give Louis is his story, so when they’re both safely tucked next to the fire, stomachs full of mixed vegetables does he talk.

“When this thing started, it got my mom first. I don’t even know how, just remember coming home with my dad, doing a final run to the store before we were going to leave. I don’t even know where we were going to go,” Liam says, shaking his head as he remembers, the nativity that used to surround people. He glances to his left, looking at Louis to see he’s staring at him, watching him intently, and listening.

“She was already turned, was one of them, and it was the first time that I saw a zombie, outside of the television broadcasts, before they had stopped, anyway. She’d gotten to my sisters, found them in the kitchen; they didn’t even get a chance to turn, she’d destroyed them. But my dad did, right after she bit him I grabbed one of the knives in our kitchen, stepping around my sisters to get it and then I killed her,” Liam explains, sniffling. He loved his mother, more than anything, and she didn’t deserve to go the way that she did. No one does, but especially his mother. If anyone deserved to escape this fate it was her, but that’s not the way life works, at least not anymore.

“I had to kill my dad next, he begged me to do it. He was crying, telling me how much he loved me, but begging me to do it before he turned, because he didn’t want to be like that, ever. He said he wanted to be my mother, wanted to be with her again.” Liam is crying, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks that he scrubs away in vain, because it’s pointless to cry. He knows, has never been surer of anything in his life that they’re in a better place, wherever that place may be. He used to not believe people when they said that, like when his grandfather died and his mother told him that it’s okay to be sad, but he’s in a better place now, where he’s not in pain from his aging joints and failing lungs. Liam never believed it until he killed his parents, then he knew, they were safe, they were happy, even if they were no longer alive.

Liam rubs at his cheek one final time, sucking in a deep breath before he continues. “I wandered for a while, meeting a few people along the way, but I never stayed with them, not for long. For a while it felt like everyone I met was destined to die, but then, after a while of being alone, I met Niall and Harry.” Liam pauses for a second, taking another deep breath.

“They’d been traveling for months, they said the outbreak hit them first or well, the area where they used to live,” Liam mumbles, because who really know where this all started. “They took me in after they found me. I think it was mostly out of pity. I was covered in blood and crying, but I stayed with them. They taught me how to use a gun, how to cover myself with infected blood in order to go outside safely and unnoticed. I was with them for,” Liam pauses to think, chewing on his bottom lip because time is irrelevant now and he’s stopped keeping track of it ages ago, all he knows is that the sun rises and it sets, and Liam is always there to witness it.

“I think it was four or five months, I’m not sure.”

“What happened to them,” Louis asks, staring at Louis and not the fire, watching him with an intense that makes Liam shudder.

Liam licks his lips, needing a short moment to pull himself together. “We were cutting through the woods when it happened. Harry was washing his face in the creek water when one snuck up on him. I heard his scream. It felt like—it was like a bitter wind on a cold day, ripping right into you, cutting into you like shattered glass. I ran to where I knew he was,” Liam remembers, his eyes and nose tingling with emotion. He clears his throat, coughs into his hand before he continues. “I found him too late. He’d—he wasn’t coming back, not even as one of them. I was so angry when I found him and so fucking sad, I didn’t know what to do with my emotions or myself, because he didn’t deserve that. He was the best fucking person you ever want to know and they took him, they fucking took him from me. All I have left of him is his bat, the one I tried to take today.”

Liam chokes on a sob and he forces it back down, clearing his nose and rubbing at his eyes. “It all fell apart after that, a swarm of them came, just out of nowhere and Niall was there suddenly, having heard Harry’s scream. We ran for it, killing the ones that got too close, but we ran, straight through the woods. By the time that I got to the edge, I found a road and Niall was gone. I lost him.” Liam shrugs, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet. “I stayed as close to the woods as I could, hoping that we’d run into each other again but the herd was too big and I had to go. And then I walked and walked and walked until you found,” Liam finishes, sighing.

It’s the first time that he ever told that story, including the bits about his family, not even Harry and Niall got to hear that part, but it’s easy to open up to Louis, already in his debt and he has nothing to lose, and maybe if he tells him, if he holds Louis as close as he’s kept those secrets he won’t lose him, because Liam’s secrets and memories are the only things that he hasn’t lost since this whole thing started, it’s all he has left. It’s the only thing that Liam can offer Louis.

Louis clears his throat, pulling his knees up, resting his arms on top of them, and holding his body close. He’s probably cold, the fire dying down as the night wears on, bringing with it a cool gentle breeze that skirts across Liam’s cheeks. Liam watches Louis as he processes the information that Liam laid out for him, he doesn’t expect Louis to say anything, doesn’t expect him to pity him, because that’s not why he told him. He told him because Louis deserved to hear it. Liam wants Louis to know.

“It infected my sisters’ first, the twins. The neighbor bit them when they were playing out back,” Louis starts, staring at the dying fire. Liam watches him carefully.

“My mom was working in the garden, the babies on a blanket beside her. The twins took the babies and my mom took herself shortly after. I don’t know how it happened,” Louis says, his eyebrows furrowing. “That’s the story Lottie and Fiz told me when I got home later. We left home after that, think it was about a week before we lost Lottie. I don’t know what happened, I came back to the camp that we had set up, a little tent in the woods, and Fizzy was covered in blood, crying. She begged me not to go near Lottie,” Louis sighs, shaking his head. His face is pinched, pained, like he hates reliving it all, but maybe he needs to get it out like Liam did, maybe he needs Liam to have his memories as well.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Liam says, wrapping his hand around Louis’ ankle, thumb stroking at the protruding bone under his flesh.

Louis shakes his head once more. “We met Zayn after that, or well, Fizzy did. She’d been hiding while I went hunting, trying to hunt. I wasn’t very good back then. When I came back and saw them, Zayn was crouching down in front of her, talking to her. I threatened him with a rock,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Zayn was decent enough, more than decent. He was amazing, he gave us knives, taught us to hunt, everything. We wouldn’t have made it as long as we did without him.”

Louis pauses and there’s something there, something in the hitch of his breath that tells Liam this is the bit where it all falls apart.

It was barely a month after we met Zayn. I lost sight of Felicite, missed the zombie creeping up behind her and it was just, too late. Zayn had to do it, I um. I couldn't do it myself," he stutters, his grip tightening on his elbows. "I wasn't brave enough to do it, so I looked away, turned my back on it all and closed my eyes. If I had kept them open I'd have seen the zombie coming. That's when I lost Zayn, while he killed my sister."

Liam’s reminded, once again, how much loss has occurred in order to be one of the few living. How every person has gone through something, and Liam wonders if that’s why Louis was so angry, so upset that he hesitated with the zombie earlier, that he just wasn’t quick enough to react accordingly. 

“That’s why you can’t die,” Louis cries, tears falling freely now. “I need someone with me, and you can’t die on me.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just watches as Louis cries into his knees, reliving the harsh emotions of losing the ones he loved. He squeezes Louis’ ankle once more and mumbles about how he’s going to go stand guard, that Louis should get some sleep.

//\\\//\\\

Louis stares at the sky instead of sleeping, counting the glowing white dots. It seems that with every passing night there are more stars in the sky, less pollution in the air, less city lights blocking his view.

There’s something about it, watching them shine that reminds him there’s so much more to this world than the life that he’s living, even if he’s not ready to join the stars.

He can hear Liam several yards over, and maybe he can’t hear him as much as he can sense him, knowing that there is another being in such close proximity. It’s distracting, and he can’t sleep knowing that he almost lost Liam tonight, could have lost Liam.

Louis gets up slowly, moving over towards Liam. He looks at him, an eyebrow raised when Louis drops down beside him, curling next to him with a hand on his chest, over his beating heart.

Liam sighs, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulder and sags back against the tree that he’s resting on. They don’t say anything, and they don’t sleep either, just stay pressed against each other, watching as the stars fade back into the sky with morning light.

//\\\//\\\

Louis has never been as happy to see the house as he is now, following the early light of morning and spending the night awake in the woods. He and Liam waited until the first signs of the sun before they started walking, taking turns carrying the duffle bag filled with supplies.

It’s nice having Liam around on these trips, ignoring what happened back at the house. He doesn’t know what it is about the other boy, but he wants him around, needs him around. It’s not just because he has someone now to help watch his back, or someone to help him carry supplies, or because there is someone to talk to now. It’s because there’s someone around, someone to fulfill his basic need as a human for companionship, to keep him company even when they’re not talking or while Liam sleeps and he reads one of the books that he’s collected.

It’s just…it’s been so long since he lost his family, since he lost Zayn, and he can’t lose Liam, he just can’t.

When they get back inside their little room, the door bolted shut behind them, Louis drops the bag on the ground and strips out of his clothes, Liam doing the same. And while Liam drops onto the mattress, curling up on his side underneath the blankets, Louis places their knives gently back where they belong before he joins Liam.

He lies there for a moment, breathing in deeply and reminding himself that they’re lucky to have made it through another raid. He needs to find a map later, figure out where they’re going next, how they’re going to find food, but for now he closes his eyes and welcomes sleep, his shoulders finally relaxing knowing that Liam is safe beside him, locked away in their little room.

//\\\//\\\

When Liam wakes up again it’s morning and Louis is wrapped around him, limbs tangled together and face pressed into Liam’s shoulder. There’s sunlight seeping in through the window and for once, Liam can hear birds. They’re singing a song of happiness and Liam takes a deep breath, letting his eyes fall closed once more. He’s not trying to fall asleep but he is trying to savor this moment.

Liam wants to relish in the feeling of Louis’ in his arms and the birds singing outside of their window. He lets his mind wander off to far off places, places where the world is like what it once was. Places where he and Louis could have met under different circumstances.

But the more Liam thinks about it, the more he realizes that maybe he and Louis were always destined to meet in a situation that could be deemed as rock bottom. Maybe Louis was always meant to find Liam when he was at his worst.

Perhaps Liam is a businessman that’s just gone bankrupt, closing down the shop of his dreams, drinking away his sorrows in a bar, wondering how he’s even going to pay for the drink and right before he blacks out drunk, there’s Louis, his crystal clear blue eyes staring down or Liam.

Or possibly Liam is widower that’s just lost his wife and is struggling to find the meaning in life and just when he’s read to give in, just when he’s ready to throw in the towel and give up on everything, there’s Louis, Liam’s savior in every possibly scenario that his life could play out in.

Louis will always be there to pick up the little pieces of Liam, the broken fragments that he’s leaving behind and wants to forget.

No matter where Liam’s mind goes, that’s what Louis is. They’re destined to find each other, whether the world has broken out in sickness or not. It feels something like fate, the way that Liam stumbled into Louis’ life and Louis nursed him back to health, nursed him back into realizing that there is a lot more to live for, even in a world like this.

When Liam opens his eyes again, the birds have stopped and Louis is still sleeping, but Liam knows. He can feel radiating warmth spreading throughout his chest and he knows this feeling. Liam doesn’t want to call it love, but that’s what it is, isn’t it? He loves Louis, and maybe it’s too soon, maybe it’s not the right time, and maybe it’s a jumbled mess of gratefulness and confusion, but it’s still there. And Liam’s not going to deny it, he’s not going to try and convince himself that those feelings aren’t there.

Liam was supposed to die that day in the store; he was to escape the apocalypse, it was supposed to be the day his body gave up and freed him of the burden of trying to stay alive. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with anyone. That wasn’t the plan. Maybe in another life, one where the undead weren’t threatening them at every moment of every day, but not this one, when they worry about where they’re going to get their next meal when the cans run out.

Liam wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Louis, shouldn’t have fallen in love with Louis, but he did, and there’s nothing that he can do to take it back. The only thing he can do is hold onto Louis as he breathes into the material of his shirt and hope that he never loses him.

//\\\//\\\

It’s a few days later and they’re still inside their little house. Louis wandered out briefly in the early hours of the morning to pick some apples off their tree, but that’s it. That’s the extent of their trips outside, except for when the small herd passed through the woods, groaning outside of the bedroom window in the middle of the night, waking them up. It was the day after Liam figured out his feelings for Louis and they waited for the sunrise before they snuck out of the house and killed them all, back to back, moving their knives with a practiced ease.

The smell of their burning flesh still lingers in the air and Liam feels a pang of sadness that it’s a smell they’ve gotten used to. A smell no one should ever get used to.

“Dinner of champions,” Louis announces, stepping out of the kitchen area and into their bedroom, showing off a can of peas like he’s on a game show. “We’re running low so I thought it was best that we share.”

“That’s fine,” Liam assures him, smiling and taking the fork Louis offers. “Do you know what would make it fair?” Louis raises an eyebrow at him, pulling his fork out of his mouth slowly. “You should have counted these peas.”

Louis snorts. “We’d be here all night.”

“Well, what else do we have to do?” Liam asks, taking a bite.

“We could talk,” Louis suggests, looking at Liam thoughtfully. Liam raises an eyebrow, his mouth full of peas. “What did you want to do before all this happened? Or I guess if you were already doing it, what was it?”

“I wanted to be a fireman,” Liam answers easily. “I liked the idea of saving people.” It’s what he wanted to do before, but not anymore. Liam doesn’t think he’s suited for it, thinks that Louis would be better at an occupation where saving lives was required.

Louis nods, taking another bite. “I could see you as a fireman,” Louis tells him, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “You’d be the Mr. November with your shirt open holding your hose on the calendar.”

Liam snorts. “What about you?”

“A teacher.”

“What kind?”

“Drama. I wouldn’t be good at anything else, I don’t think.”

“You’d be good at anything,” Liam says and he knows that he’s right. Louis can do anything if he sets his mind to it. He made their house everything that it is, all alone with just a will to survive. It was Louis that came up with the system of finding places to raid but staying in one location, trying to latch onto an ounce of normalcy in an abnormal world. Louis did that and if he do something as brave and as wonderful as what he’s already done, then Liam knows that he can do anything he sets his mind to, whatever it is in the world.

It reminds Liam of the other night, when he imagined he and Louis in other worlds, in other lives, and how no matter Louis was always the one saving him. He thinks that in another world, another life, Louis would be capable of anything, just like he is in this one.

“Do you think we would have known each other before this?” Liam asks, as close to voicing his thoughts from the other night as it’s ever going to get.

Louis sighs, staring into the can of peas thoughtfully for a moment, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Liam watches him chew on it nervously for a moment before Louis says, “I’m not sure. Why?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Liam says, scratching at his jaw. “I’ve just been thinking about it. I’ve been thinking, wondering, what my life could have been and then I started thinking about if you’d be in it or not.”

“Fate has a funny way of working, Liam, and you never know what could come of it. Maybe we’re only supposed to meet under these circumstances.”

“You think we’d only be in each other’s lives during the apocalypse?”

“No,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I think that no matter happens, during times of great despair is when we’re supposed to meet. We’re meant to keep each other alive, Liam. I can feel it,” Louis admits, looking at Liam through his lashes, like he’s scared to say it. “And the world doesn’t have to be ending, if it even is, for us to be that for each other.”

Liam licks his lips and nods, his stomach knotting pleasantly, his chest warming up at Louis’ words, because it’s exactly like he thought the other night. And hearing Louis is on the same page, Liam smiles, squeezing Louis hand gently before he goes back to eating peas.

//\\\//\\\

They go on another raid the next morning, bags slung over their shoulders and knives tucked into their belts. It’s a daylong journey before they find a series of houses, bigger than the place Louis found Liam at. Liam thinks that it’ll keep them fed and taken care of for months, if it’s as stocked as Liam hopes it is. He says a silent prayer, pulling his knife out of his belt as they walk up the first driveway, because they need this.

“I’ll clear the upstairs, you take the main level,” Louis tells him and when Liam nods, he pushes the door openly slowly, both of them listening for sounds of something else being in the house.

“Scream if you need me,” Liam whispers, watching as Louis walks up the stairs in silence. He has to take a deep breath before he walks on, trying to squash down any worries about Louis, because he’ll be okay. Liam can feel it.

The first zombie Liam finds is in the kitchen, he snarls when Liam walks into the room, shuffling towards him. Liam shoves him back and then drives the knife through its head, pulling it out and wiping it off on a cloth he finds on the kitchen table. There’s three more trapped inside one of the back rooms and Liam kills them one after another.

The final room, a bedroom tucked away in the back of the house is empty and Liam lingers inside of it, waiting for Louis. He hasn’t heard anything from upstairs, so he figures that it’s clear and Louis is gathering supplies, but true to his nature, Liam glances around, taking in his surroundings.

There are pictures of a family on the walls, a man, a woman and two kids, a little boy and a little girl. They look happy, even if they’re clearly posing for a photographer. Liam smiles fondly at them, remembering the seemingly carefree existence of this family that’s trapped inside of these photographs forever.

There’s a shuffle behind him and Liam turns, knife raised but it’s only Louis, carrying a full bag over his shoulder. He smiles at Liam, dropping the bag down on the bed, and looking at the photographs over Liam’s shoulder. “I always wanted a family,” he tells him, stepping closer to them, fingertips brushing against the glass.

“It could still happen, you never know,” Liam replies, turning away from the pictures to start digging through the drawers of the dresser.

Louis shrugs. “No, I don’t think so. Not anymore.”

They work together in silence, emptying the house completely of everything inside of it. They take what they need and leave behind what they can afford to, things they can grab at a later date if they need to. And when they’re finished, they swing the bags over their shoulders and step outside, ready to head back home, because their bags are full.

“Fuck,” Louis mutters when they step outside and Liam looks at him, confused until he tears his eyes away and sees the hoard of zombies coming their way. There’s maybe twenty of them, not enough that they can’t get out of it, but it’s more than Liam wants to deal with.

“Just leave the bags here, we can get them once we’re finished with them,” Liam says, dropping his own at his side and pulling out his knife again.

Louis and Liam attack from different sides of the pack, plunging knives into skulls and moving quickly and safely, trying to stay out of reach. Liam does his best to focus on the zombies and not on making sure that one of them isn’t sneaking up behind Louis and just as he’s ready to drive his knife through the temple of another zombie, his world freezes.

Liam’s arm falls limp at his side, his mouth dropping open, and a quiet whisper of “no” escapes his lips. The zombie snarls, pieces of his cheek torn away from its skull where he was bit before he turned, when he was infected. Liam’s ears are ringing and he can hardly make out the sound of Louis screaming his name because he can’t take his eyes off the zombie in front of him, he can’t stop looking at Niall.

“No,” Liam cries again, his eyes welling up with tears. He had pictured this, seeing Niall again. He had hoped and prayed Niall was out there and he was safe, that nothing had happened to him. But it was all in vain. Niall was bit, he was turned and he’ll never be Niall again. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” Liam chokes out and he wants to hug him, wants to pull Niall close and try his hardest to pull the human back out of him.

This would have never happened if he and Liam hadn’t gotten separated. It would have never happened. Niall’d be—he wouldn’t be this.

Liam’s vision is blurring completely, zoning in on Niall and blocking out everything else until Niall is inches from him, arm swinging out to grab at Liam, bunching up in the front of his shirt. And then there’s Louis, his knife digging into Niall’s skull and Liam falls with him, a sob ripping out of his chest while Louis screams at him, asking Liam what the fuck happened, why’d he’d let that happen, why would Liam ever get so close to dying as he did just now.

Liam can’t answer; all he can do is cry these gut wrenching sobs that are torn from his body, his tears spill out onto the decaying bits of Niall’s flesh, screaming when Louis tries to tear him away. He cries and a part of him wishes he had died that day Louis found him.

//\\\//\\\

Louis watches Liam sleep, a small fire crackling between them. He can’t sleep, not like he’s not willing to try after what happened earlier. Liam hasn’t spoken since what happened earlier, just cried on the zombie until Louis was finally able to drag him away, back on the porch for their bags so they could set off on their journey home. And it’s not like Louis didn’t try to make him talk, he did. He had shoved at Liam, demanding to know why Liam would ever be stupid enough to get himself killed, but whatever the reason, Liam wouldn’t tell him.

It’s worrisome, to say the least. Louis can’t lose him. He’s lost too many people and he refuses to let Liam be one of them, even if Louis has to lose himself in the process.

Liam’s making these whining noises in his sleep, mumbling sounds that Louis doesn’t know how to identify into words, and twitching a bit every now and then, like being asleep is painful to him. Louis watches it closely, knife clutched tightly in his hand. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, because he’d hear if a zombie was approaching, but he’s prepared to fight.

Suddenly Liam is screaming, crying out in pain, his body contorting violently. Louis dives into action, dropping his knife down on the ground and moving swiftly to wake Liam up, shaking him gently.

“Liam. Liam, wake up,” Louis says, shaking Liam until he wakes, gasping into consciousness, staring up at Louis with wide eyes. “It was a nightmare. You’re okay. All right? You’re okay. I’m here,” he soothes, as he brushes his fingers through Liam’s hair.

Liam releases a deep breath that he chokes on, turning into a sob and all Louis can do is pull him into his chest, holding onto him as tight as he can, trying to absorb whatever it is bothering Liam.

It takes several minutes before Liam calms down, his cries turning into little gasps of air, as he tries to stop. And when he does, he pulls away from Louis, rubbing at his eyes and his cheeks. The sight of him like this breaks Louis’ heart.

“It was Niall,” Liam says finally, staring down at the dirt they’re sitting on.

“What was Niall?”

“He was the one there. The one that, um—you stopped him from biting me.”

“Oh, no. Liam, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Louis mutters, holding Liam’s face between his hands, forcing him to look at him. “I didn’t know. I didn’t—I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t let him bite you. You can’t die. I’m so sorry.”

Louis doesn’t know what he’s sorry for, if he’s sorry for killing Niall or if he’s sorry for letting Liam live instead dying at the hands of a friend he thinks he betrayed.

Louis leans forward and kisses Liam’s forehead, then each of his cheeks, every inch of skin that he can before he goes for his lips. Louis starts off hesitantly, watching Liam’s reaching, gauging to make sure that this is okay. And when Louis’ lips touch Liam’s, he hears his breath hitch, feels as Liam grips onto him wildly, tugging at Louis desperately like this is everything he needs to stay alive in this very moment.   

Louis licks at the seam of his mouth until Liam’s mouth opens and then Louis licks his way in, gripping on Liam’s hair. He’s trying to pull him closer, moving his hands from Liam’s cheek to grip at his hair, tugging at it. Liam is pulling at his shirt, whining in the back of his throat.

Liam tastes like a future and Louis never wants to let him go, with Liam here, Louis’ knows that everything is going to turn out okay.

//\\\//\\\

Liam wakes Louis with a finger pressed to his lips, telling him to be quiet. Louis blinks at him in confusion, allowing Liam to take his hand and follow him out of their bedroom, through the other room and outside. Louis doesn’t look impressed when Liam climbs onto the roof, grinning down at him until Louis sighs, climbing up himself and sitting down next to Louis, their legs dangling over the edge.

Liam takes Louis hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding onto him. He never wants to let go of him and Louis must feel it too, the feelings coursing through Liam’s blood. He can probably feel the beat of Liam’s heart with the way their wrists are pressed together.

And as the sun begins to rise, the sky changes slowly from a dark blue to something lighter, a burst of white and orange at the horizon line. It’s a gradient of color until it feels like the sky bursts, pinks and yellows and oranges and purples, the most beautiful combination of colors that Liam’s ever seen. He stares at it in awe - feeling as Louis presses a kiss to his shoulder before he rests his head down in the place of the kiss – and Liam knows that no matter what happens they’ll be okay, they’ll make it because with each other, they can do anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://www.alnimawrites.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me about this or anything :).


End file.
